Secrets are poison. They eat away at you from the inside. I doubt there’s a single person in the club that would have a problem with who I am. Keeping my mouth shut is all about my own shame. Who I am isn’t acceptable. That’s what my Fundamentalist family raised me to believe, but even after leaving home, I couldn’t be myself. Fighting against it never really became a struggle until the flirty bartender set his eyes on me. He made me wish for things I couldn’t have. Resisting him was easy until that first kiss. Now there’s a very real chance my shame will ruin us both.